Where to begin. 

The issue is connectivity.  I can’t post regularly, we’re blowing through data, and the posts stack up.  2/3 of our electronics are acting funny.  The other third lacks enough antenna to receive signal here… So, bear with me.  Getting connected, right now, is frustrating stuff.  And one of my new things is avoiding frustrating stuff.  

Onwards. 

So much has happened.

Teena finally made it onboard.  She was the final crew addition, and with her onboard the only thing we needed to figure out was the saildrive issue.  Did we figure it out? Probably.  Did we fix it? No.  But we did pull it apart (including making a special tool – thanks Volvo Penta – to remove the offending part) and get our hands on the broken parts.  Mike is a remarkable human being, and incredibly generous with his knowledge and time.  That’s the moral of this story. 

What caused the failure?  No idea.  Not even the boat-fixing-stuff God Mike had an explanation that we believed was 100% correct.  The truth?  If we can’t isolate the cause – it matters very little.  The remaining issues: finding the part, getting a fair price for it, getting it to us, and then (finally) installing it.  Continue mission.

As far as locating the part:  I am aware of a mechanic that claims to have my Volvo Penta 120S saildrives in his shop near here.  If that’s the case, I may be able to get a good deal on the entire saildrive and simply poach the part I need – which would leave me with a ton of spare parts for the next (inevitable) saildrive oops. 

Cruising San Blas

So.  Then it was about limping to some other anchorage so that we could wait for my saildrive-parts info in a place that we all enjoyed.  Spearfishing the outer reef in The Swimming Pool was the entire reason I came back to San Blas – so that’s where we headed. 

To get out of the tricky anchorage we were in (Yansaladup) with only one engine could become catastrophic quickly.  So we strapped the dinghy to my starboard hull and used that to get us up to speed and maneuver.  It worked wonderfully.  We have it down to an art now.

Dez fishing

 

There was wind on the nose as we headed to The Swimming Pool.  This is par for the course onboard NOMAD – wherever we go, the wind decides to work against us.  So the going was slow.  We averaged about 4 knots, and when we arrived we put Ana back in the dinghy to help me maneuver around the shallow spots and patch reef at the entrance to The Swimming Pool. 

Dez catching fish

As we entered, we found The Swimming Pool full.  And since I like my space, we pulled far into a cut and dropped the anchor in a spot that most wouldn’t.  

Friends in The Swimming Pool

Having confidence in your charts and your ground tackle makes these maneuvers possible.    It was tricky and I wasn’t beyond setting an anchor alarm. 

Sundowner, who we’d come to know online but not yet in person, was in the anchorage with their friends.  Of the other boats anchored around, I knew a few.  I made the rounds and said my hello’s.  It’s nice to feel welcome, to feel a sense of returning to a familiar place with familiar people.  Especially when the people are as generous and giving as the cruising community. 

Naturally, Sundowner was leaving the following day so we wouldn’t get to spend too much time with them this time ‘round.  So we did what we always do – drink and dive and socialize and laugh and eat. 

The surf was pounding the barrier reef, so “getting outside” wasn’t a reality.  We stayed inside and poked around some interior caves.  There’s a swim-through that provides some excitement and can be quite challenging when there is current.  To get through the swim through you have to be able to swim underwater for at least 45 seconds, sometimes upwards of a minute.  Not a huge deal, but enough. 

In the caves I saw a massive Goliath Grouper – which are fair game here – but he evaded me and never showed himself again.  He was over 100 pounds and likely would have pushed 200 pounds.  Not a huge specimen for the Goliath’s – but I consider landing a fish like that an achievement.  And I would have shot him as we had enough boats anchored around us that none of the fish would have been wasted.  But, alas, he was savvy.  Then Ana and I dove some patch-reef inside the barrier reef, but inside a channel. 

No other fish showed, and with three crew (including a chef) that wanted fresh fish – I was forced into Plan B.  Plan B: shoot Ocean Triggerfish.  I can almost always find them, they are tasty and have a great texture.  The only issue with the Ocean Triggerfish is what a PITA they are to clean.  Their skin resembles armor and dulls any knife, without fail. 

Triggerfish in the dinghy – we retired for the evening and put on our drinking pants and our fish lights. 

Ana is always swimming

Shortly we were watching clouds of baitfish around the boat and a bit later the Barracuda, Tarpon, and turtles came in.  A wonderful substitute for TV.  The fish light gives us the excitement of seeing both the large and small ocean-creatures of the night.  All night we talked and joked and drank.  The night regularly pierced with cries of “Look at that!” and “There’s something else huge!” or “Come look, quick!” .  

The fish-TV programming was topnotch onboard NOMAD. 

Cruising San Blas